Teaching Mr Simpson - Part One - The Merge
by Damien and Regan
Summary: Bart and Lisa`s school hires two new teachers - the Terwilliger brothers! (By Lisa)


Teaching Mr Simpson - Part One - the Merge 

  
  


* * *

"Prince, What is the biggest city in Oregon?"   
Martin Prince grinned in a superior sort of way. "Portland," he said, almost as if bored.   
"Is that your final answer?"   
"Yes."   
"Is it?"   
"Yes."   
"It`s correct! Now, what is the capital of Oregon, Taylor?"   
"Salem," Allison Taylor, Martin`s teammate said.   
"Is that your final answer?"   
"Yes."   
"You sure?"   
"Of course."   
"And it`s correct! All right, last question. This one`s for Lisa Simpson. Simpson, name one thing that Oregon makes more than any other state, and why."   
(_Too easy, you fool_)   
"Marijuana," Lisa said, as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, "because they get so much rain, which, I might add, they are always complaining about."   
"Is that your final answer?"   
"Yes."   
"Positive?"   
"Yes."   
"Absolutely sure?"   
"Yes." Starting to get old.   
"Are you-"   
"Yes, I do think the damn answer`s correct! Get on with it!"   
(_Does he have to do that?_)   
"Correct! And five extra points to team Springfield for that true fact! Yes, Oregonians are always whining about their immense rain. Springfield Elementary wins the Who Wants To Be A Smarmy Know It All million dollar prize for their school! Congratulations!"   
Lisa, Martin and Allison did some sort of touchdown dance Lisa had taught them, from what she witnessed her father and brother do. It wasn`t exactly very good, but it was a dance, in a sick, extra terrestrial way.   
"We won! We won! In your face, Shelbyville! We won! We won!"   
The three kids smirked as they walked over to Regis Philbut to receive the check. They knew they weren`t being good sports, but they didn`t care. They had not only won their school a million dollars, but they had also shown those Shelbyville snobs. Their families rushed up to hug them as Lisa, Allison and Martin left the stage.   
"I`m so proud of you, honey! You won your team five extra points, too! I`m so proud!"   
Marge Simpson, Lisa`s mother, was hugging her tightly as her father, Homer, along with other adult men, mocked Shelbyville. Her ten year old brother, Bart, was starting to walk over to join them, but Marge grabbed him. "Oh, no, you don`t. I don`t want you messing with that Shelbyville crowd. They`re up to no good."   
"Oh, but Mum-"   
"No."   
Lisa could see what her mother meant. There were a bunch of Shelbyville kids, all muttering angrily in their little gang. Lisa thanked God for not making her a Shelbyvillian, even if she had ended up a Springfieldian.   
Homer came walking back, zipping up his fly and giggling evilly.   
"Oh, Homey..."   
"I sure showed those snobs. Marge, you would be proud of me if you had seen what I did, taking charge and bravely leading the guys into it. I slapped fear right in the face and told it to bug off, because I`m Homer Jay Simpson, and I`m afraid of nothing!"   
"Dad, there`s a bug on your shoulder."   
"Ah! Gettittoffgettittoffgettittoff!"   
"You mooned them, didn`t you?"   
"Well, yeah, but Marge, it was Shelbyville!"   
"Mmmm..."   


Principal Seymour Skinner walked into the conference room, followed by some other men and women. They all chose seats, all trying to avoid sitting next to Superintendent Chalmers, who Skinner unfortunately got a seat next to.   
(_Damn_)   
Chalmers cleared his throat. "Now, as we all know, all of our schools beat Shelbyville in the Who Wants To Be A Smarmy Know It All show and won our schools each the million dollar prize. Now, Skinner here-"   
The other principals looked at him.   
"-used his brain for once and came up with a brilliant idea. Springfield Academy."   
The other principals looked intrigued.   
"Seymour?"   
"With pleasure,-"   
(_you brainless moron_)   
"-sir. The idea is that we merge all the Springfield schools - Springfield preschool, elementary, junior high, senior high, university and military - into one school. Springfield Academy. We`d still control our own parts of the school, of course."   
"Brilliant."   
"Ingenious."   
"Love it."   
(_It is, isn`t it? Mother will be so proud_)   
"And that we add to more subjects to the Academy: medical and science. And that we have convicts teach them."   
"Convicts?"   
"Convicted of what?"   
"Isn`t that a bit risky?"   
"Why?"   
The conference room was abuzz, the other principals all puzzled. Convicts teaching classes?   
"Convicts as teachers? Skinner, have you gone nuts?"   
Skinner smiled. "No, I haven`t gone off my rocker. You see, convicts would keep a class silent, no doubt. Depending on why they`re in jail, of course."   
"Yes, but Skinner - convicts?"   
"Correction: licensed convicts."   
"Are you sure about this?"   
"Positive," Skinner said, smiling again, "I`m sure."   
"All right..."   
"If you insist..."   
Skinner smiled. Finally, an excuse to get him away from his mother for a while.   


"Official school business?"   
"Yes, mother."   
"Are you telling the truth?"   
"Yes, mother."   
"All right. If it`s official school business."   
"See you later, mother."   
"Be back by eight!"   
"Yes, mother."   
(_God, can`t she ever let me live a bit?_)   
Skinner practically ran out if his house, speeding off Springfield Minimum Security Penitentiary. He walked into the building calmly, greeting the police Chief Wiggum.   
"Hello, Clancy."   
"Seymour."   
"Well, I think you pretty much know why I`m here."   
"Yeah, I think I pretty much do."   
Wiggum lead Skinner to a computer.   
"May I...?"   
"Go right ahead."   
"Thank you."   
Wiggum walked off, asking Lou about the doughnut supply that was supposed to be coming at any moment now. Skinner, knowing exactly what he was doing, typed for a bit, finally finding what he was looking for. The results gave him a bit of a shock.   
"What the-? Could it be? Red Willie?"   
Skinner jumped up from his seat and rushed off towards the mess hall, where the convicts spent most of their time. He glimpsed Wiggum`s office, where the chief was complaining about how the doughnuts were five minutes late. Skinner rushed into the room. There were convicts all over the room, talking to each other, reading, surfing the web, watching T.V. and what not.   
"Well, it is minimum security."   
There were guards all over the place, after all. As well as prisoners in the usual dark grey prison suit. Skinner had always thought that dark grey was the right colour for a prison uniform. There were a whole hell of a lot of convicts there, but it didn`t take Skinner more than a couple of seconds to find the guy he was looking for; his vivid red hair stood out. Skinner decided that the right way to greet him was the way he did when they were buds. He snook up the convict, who was talking to a guy with hippie-like brown hair and a snake tattoo and another convict with dark blonde/light orange hair, who looked a bit familiar. Skinner was right behind the red head...he lifted up his arms...he then swiftly put the man in a head lock and gave him a noogie-   
"Noog - ack!"   
Skinner gasped for air as he was swung around and put in a head lock himself by the convict.   
"'Noogie' this, you little - Seymour! I haven`t seen you since the army!"   
Skinner was released and stood up, panting.   
"So sorry, I thought you were one of them-"   
The man jerked his head towards the other convicts.   
"What are you doing here? Commit any crimes? Like being a minute late getting home?" The convict said in his sarcastic way.   
"Heh, heh. No, seriously, I`m actually here because - well, I suppose you`ve heard the news about the schools, and the game show and the merge and the whole bit, right, Red Willie?"   
The blonde/orange haired convict snickered. "Red Willie?" Snicker. "Where`d you get that name?"   
"Take a wild guess, you insolent little idiot," the red headed convict retorted. He jabbed a thumb at is hair, which was fiery red and strongly resembled a palm tree, or, more accurately, a weeping willow. "It was my nick name in Vietnam."   
The blonde convict rolled his eyes. "Well, I knew that, obviously. How does one miss hair like that, I`d like to know." The weeping willow haired convict narrowed his eyes at the man. The other convict with the tattoo stepped in between the two. "Like, don`t start one of your petty brother fights again, dudes. The novelty has totally worn off."   
The red head shot his brother another angry glance and then turned back to Skinner. "Sorry - what were you saying again?"   
(_That`s why that man looks familiar. Bob`s brother. Chris or Samuel or something_)   
"You heard all about the game show and the school merge, right?"   
"Of course. That guy over there, with the light brown hair - Hutz, him - couldn`t stop bragging about how that was his ex-niece who won Springfield that last question. Ffft."   
Skinner`s convict friend rolled his eyes and glared at Hutz. "The brainless git. I doubt he`s ever been close to being her uncle. In for continued lying under oath and trying to blackmail the jury and such."   
"Jealous, Bob?"   
"Shut up."   
Skinner ignored the man. "I remember the wedding. Her nephew was terrified of you. Of course, everyone else didn`t suspect a thing. Genius plan, really. Evil, but genius."   
"Thank you," Bob said in a cold, sarcastic voice, "and would you care to tell me your opinion on the second time I attempted murder the first degree?"   
"Well, I wasn`t going to, but all right. Let`s see...also genius, driving the boy`s family to another town, where no one but them knew your criminal record-"   
"It was a joke, Seymour."   
"And yet you never locked the windows, which you should of-"   
"That`s enough, Seymour..."   
"A bit surprised, I was, at that, especially when Bart tricked you by asking you to sing the 'HMS Pinafore,' you never could resist singing-"   
"Seymour, I got the idea! Drop it!"   
Skinner giggled a bit, then saw his friend looking angrily at him.   
"Sorry, Bob, but I couldn`t resist..."   
"I`ll bet you couldn`t."   
"Well, I came with good news, Bob. Because of the merge, Springfield Academy will be hiring two new teachers, convicts, actually, because they can probably control the class. The subjects will be medical and science."   
"What`s your point?"   
"Well, you may be the medical professor. If you want."   
Bob sort of froze.   
"Bob?"   
After what seemed to be an eternity, Bob spoke.   
"M-medical professor?"   
"Of course. I`m not joking, Bob. I never joke about matters this serious."   
"Then of course I`ll be the medical professor."   
"Great! Now I just need to find a science professor."   
"Good luck."   
Skinner walked off, looking for Bob`s brother.   
(_They`ll both be surprised, finding out that they`re co-workers_)   
Skinner approached the blonde man, who seemed to be talking to the guy with the tattoo. "Excuse me, but are you Mr. Terwilliger?"   
"Depends which one you`re looking for."   
"O.K., then. Which one are you?"   
"Well, why don`t you tell me?"   
"I - um, well, your first name isn`t why I`m here."   
"Really? Then why are you here?"   
"Well, if you would shut up, I would tell you."   
"Sorry."   
"Right. Anyway, I`m here because - well, first, tell me this. Have you heard about the school merge and the games show?"   
"One too many times. That guy over there, Hutz, keeps bragging about how his ex-niece won the show."   
Terwilliger wrinkled his nose in disgust.   
"Uck. He`s in for continued false cases and such; he`s a 'lawyer.' And, may I add, I emphasize 'lawyer.'   
"So, what was it that you were going to talk to me about?"   
"Well, about the school merge...Springfield Academy is hiring two new teachers, both to be convicts. One will be teaching medical, the other, science.   
"Since you`re the only convict that I found who is licensed to teach science, I was wondering if you wanted the job."   
"Of course," Terwilliger said quickly. Skinner thought he saw the man smile evilly, but it was probably his imagination.   
(_You are in a penitentiary, after all. Maybe that`s just how he smiles_)   
"We start next Monday. Be prepared; you`re teaching from first graders to seniors in college."   
"Oh, I`ll be ready; believe me, I`ll be ready."   
(_Was that an ominous voice? Stop it, Seymour, you`re scaring yourself_)   
"Great. We`ll see you then."   
"Oh, I can`t wait." The man snickered.   
Skinner walked out and into Wiggum`s office, where the man was gorging on doughnuts.   
"So, Skinner, find your guys?" the police chief asked with a mouth full of doughnuts.   
"Oh, yes, the, um, Terwilliger brothers."   
"O.K., hold on a second."   
He reached into his desk and pulled out some papers and a stamp. He stamped one page, with Bob`s picture on it. It was stapled to many other papers. Wiggum then stamped another paper, with about two other pages stapled to it. This one had Bob`s brother on it. Wiggum then handed the papers to Skinner. "There ya go."   
"Thank you,-"   
(_you fat pig_)   
"-chief."   
Skinner walked back into the mess hall, reading Terwilliger`s paper.   
(_Oh yeah, his name was Cecil. Interesting name. Dear God, that`s his middle name?!?_)   
He walked up to the brothers, who were talking with the tattooed prisoner again. "May I see a-"   
Skinner read the paper.   
"-Cecil Glisan Terwilliger?"   
Skinner snickered along with Bob and the convict with the brown hair. Cecil turned red with embarrassment.   
"And a-"   
Skinner read the other paper.   
"-Robert Underdunk Terwilliger as well."   
Now it was Cecil`s turn to laugh with Skinner and the other prisoner. Bob`s face grew as red as his hair, so that you could only distinguish his bright green eyes from the rest of his face. "Heh, heh," he muttered.   
The brothers walked over to Skinner.   
"I`ve got good news," said Skinner, smiling, "you have both been granted parole."   
"That`s great!" Bob said enthusiastically.   
"Wait. Why`s Bob getting out?"   
"Why are you getting out?"   
Skinner smiled. "Because you`re both the new professors! Congratulations!"   
The boys stared at Skinner in horror. "What?!?"   
"I want out. I`m not working with this git."   
"It`s too late; you can`t back now because you`ve already both been granted parole," Skinner said, a bit surprised.   
"D`oh!" the brothers cried in unison, slapping themselves on the foreheads.   
  
TO BE CONTINUED 

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End file.
